Izel set her foot before the large tent on the mown grassy lawn. Alongside her, she bore not only a bag filled with candles and Yūgen's gold pouch but also two small children and a man whose scowl proved stubborn to dispel.

It was a marlin blue tent decorated with green stripes, as well as red zigzags and dots. Hundreds of marble-like patterned beads fused and dangled from top to bottom, together assuming the role of the door.

"Come in," Izel beckoned.

"Is it okay?" Wisesa inquired impassively.

"Do you think Tamoanchanese eat people like mujinos?"

"Yea?"

"They don't!"

"Alright then." Wisesa shrugged.

"Make yourself at home—just avoid displaying Tlaltecuhtli; it might be misconstructed as troublemaking, and Kagatsean soldiers would drag everyone back to Otnagochi. Don't worry, they're more receptive to strangers than the Kagatseans themselves." Izel looked at Kaito and Tome, who held hands. "Except for kids like you. You are all adorable. As long as you refrain from crying, okay?"

"B-but... I want to see Otosan and Okasan," Tome whimpered. "I want Alicia-neesan and Orb."

That girl's name again. Izel's smile might have retained a glimmer of sincerity, but her single eye twitched, veins popping out on both temples—the kids remained oblivious to that, thankfully.

"Oh, Tome-chan. Here you’ll meet many elders and children who are more engaging and have more fun toys. The elders here are mothers to those who have the fate of being orphaned, myself included. And they usually have campfire storytelling sessions at night! Tamoanchan's folklore is just enchanting and heartwarming! So much so that you’ll forget about her."

"Is Alicia-neesan coming back? Will mum and dad come back too?"

Kaito, on the other hand, stroked his sister's shoulder. "Don't worry, Tome-chan. Alicia-neesan is definitely working on finding our mum and dad with the practitioners! She will definitely come back, so don't be afraid."

"Y-yes..." She wiped her eyes, endeavoured to stand tall, and summon a facade of strength.

As they crossed the tent’s threshold, the group of youngsters were greeted by an old grandmother sporting a wide, hovering hat and long overalls that hid her arms and legs, as if all that stood between her bare body and the outside world was a mere blanket. Both Izel and the old crone squatted down, then their hands clasped each other's shoulders. They exchanged kisses on the cheeks.

"I'm home, Nantli," Izel greeted in her mother tongue. Her trademark heavy and sonorous voice was absent, replaced by a subdued manner of speaking. Her tone was even, but meek and calm. “Star Serpent has granted me safe passage home.”

“And may you always be worthy in the eyes of Citlalicoatl, our god,” the old woman replied with a subtle smile. Her smile did not fade as she turned to Wisesa, Kaito, and Tome. After withdrawing her hand from the Orange Witch's back, the old woman produced a scroll of parchment, unfolding it to reveal a lump of reddish soil. One could not tell what plagued the old lady's mind, according to Wisesa, which made her grab and chew on the mound of soil while presenting it with open hands in conjunction with her grin. Kaito and Tome's eyes rounded; they were even more curious.

Wisea whispered in Izel's ear. "What the—"

Izel hissed softly. "She welcomed you all. Just act plain."

"Why is that aunty eating dirt?" Tome voiced the others' bewilderment louder.

Kaito whispered her name, but the question was greeted by the old woman's cordial laughter. "It's natural for her to ask. This is our way of officially welcoming our guests."

"But why eat dirt? I-isn't it disgusting?"

"No..." another giggle, before raising the soil closer to Tome. Tome’s grip on her older brother's cloth shirt tightened. "This is clay from Tamoanchan. Our soil is always heated and purified by Citlalicoatl through our magic. Also, it contains many minerals."

"Oh," Tome replied briefly. "Can I try it?"

"Tome-chan!" scolded Kaito.

"Sorry, little one," the old woman rewrapped the remaining soil. "It's just for a special welcome, and we don't have much." She bowed again before finally rising. The dust stains clung to her unbothered. "You have exhausted yourselves, troubling yourselves to come."

"Nantli. I want to deposit the proceeds of our candle sales." Izel's merchandise bag was already in front of her chest.

"And you always trouble yourself to sell along the territory and return to war afterwards. It is better that you stay with the others in Otnagochi. They need you."

"Nantli, almost all the grown men are there. What more could there be? Meanwhile, someone has to take care of you here." Izel thrust her hand to the three people at the back. "I met them on the way and they might need a place to stay for a while. Especially the children. Their parents are missing."

"Oh, poor souls." the grandmother patted her chest. With small steps, she took one of Tome's hesitant hands. "May your parents' steps always be guided by the sun. The Tamoanchan community here is willing to shelter you, at least until this Kingdoms Plague disappears. Are you hungry? Do you like chocolate? My sisters just made a chocolate and corn drink—oh you'll love it! We also made Tlacoyo snacks to sell. Now, instead of tasting soil, it is better for you to be the judges of our food..." The two children were already entranced by the grip of the grandmother's rough but warm fingers, and their feet moved on their own deeper into the campsite while listening to the tantalising descriptions of said dishes.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

In the sprawling grounds, Wisesa chose to linger in a corner, observing the Tamoanchan women shoulder to shoulder with the food as if they were organising a grand banquet, but in truth their intent was to vend these culinary delights near the market. People seemed reticent around him; only a handful of seasoned women proffered larger portions of tlacoyo and chocolate atole, offerings he declined with a raised palm or an almost imperceptible nod.

Wisesa watched groups of women inside the open tent shaping pottery and grinding bundles of what he believed to be lustrous scales. It was the process of grinding the scales into powder that caught his attention the most. The processed powder was reshaped into long coils, then mixed with an oblong mass of vibrant feathers before being coated with wax and fragrance.

His gaze then shifted to Tome, who was shyly munching on a crisp corn cake filled with beans and meat, and Kaito, in the process of introduction to the other Tamoanchanese children. The introductions between children were never fancy; just eyeing each other with curiosity, then putting on peculiar expressions for a reply, and before long, their forms had already mingled with dirt and sweat as they were tossing a ball at each other in the courtyard. The elder brother then tugged on his younger sister's hand, encouraging her to acquaint herself with the others. Thanks to whispers, embraces, and Kaito's sparkling smile, Tome found herself engaged in a doll drama with some of the other girls.

"Wisesa!" Izel disrupted the man's contemplation. "Nantli mention you only partook sparingly. You should eat more!"

A deadpan look was cast upon her. "I'm not hungry." Wisesa started walking, turning his body towards the exit.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm picking up the Western Woman," the lad replied. "Just take care of the two children, if you would."

Wisesa had seamlessly melted into the bustling crowd when suddenly the jarring wail of loud sirens pierced the air from the opposite direction. A procession of Kagatsean carriages brushed past the other carriages and stopped right in front of the camp. Hearing the commotion and the heart-pounding racket, Izel, the elders and a number of other women came out of the compound. The children were directed to enter the large red tent that appeared to serve as their communal hall.

A civil guard, with a spiral-shaped kabuto covering half of his face and a uniform collar covering the other half, disembarked from the lead carriage, followed by a number of other civil guards. With an air of suspicion etched across her face, Izel approached the officer.

"Good afternoon, Miss, and all the Tamoanchanese community," the unit leader offered a bow.

"Another troupe, seriously?" Izel grumbled in exasperation. "I’ve told you we're not breaking any rules."

"Not you," the commander clarified, "but them."

A cohort of new civil guards poured out of the rear truck, and as they clapped the container behind it, the container door ascended like a curtain, revealing a number of dark-skinned youngsters tumbling to the ground. Men with rather flabby build. They appeared unified with thick kohl on their eyebrows, and the way they pursed their lips or wiggled their limbs, there were obvious traits of common masculinity not implied in their mannerisms. The talk of how mighty every Tamoanchanese man was from childhood to adulthood now sounded like utter gibberish. Ironically, Izel had to admit that to herself. With revulsion.

One man from the group attempted to throw a punch at one of the soldiers, only to be met with a swift katana thrust to the neck. He promptly shoved aside, falling down. In an instant, the local merchants ceased selling their wares. Workers abandoned their tools. Even the famished patron in the stalls halted their chewing and turned around. Their food was cursed to go cold.

"Xochitl!" Izel shouted. Her palms were clenched, glowing yellowish, and smoke was faintly rising. "What did you do to them?"

"With all due respect, we didn't do anything. We ask you not to invoke your magic here." the commander replied again. "We brought them back here out of goodwill. But we must warn you to stop protesting in front of Government Mountain and vandalizing the closed shops. If they had taken a single dime from the shop, we would have cut off their hands one by one! No matter how hard you try, the country's mind is made up!"

"Nonsense!" The man named Xochitl shouted back. "We didn't break anyone's shop, tepochtli! Someone set us up—"

"All the evidence and you're still evasive?" With swords drawn, the civil guards pushed back the Tamoanchanese man. "Stay where you are, Gaijin! We disapprove of you holding a demonstration here!"

"We have held a demonstration according to Kagatse regulations! And we did not damage anyone's shop!" Xochitl insisted.

"The law of aspiration is only for the people of Kagatse, not for Gaijin!"

"Then who do we report to? We do not accept our families being sent to Otnagochi! Displace them all to Takamagahara as well!"

"Listen up, cowardly boy!" the civil guard commander had lost his composure. "All of you men! Instead of fighting bravely alongside your fathers and brothers, you're causing a ruckus here. Be thankful the Dajō Daijin-sama does not demand the presence of women and children there too!"

"Damn you! We're refugees here!" the dark-skinned man was about to push the commander, but was pulled away by the women who were already screaming in panic, half crying. Neighbours peeked through the bamboo curtains and sliding doors. Some seemed to thrust their mouths into each other's ears while their gazes remained on the Tamoanchanese, either implying a loss of emotion or being stricken with contempt. Meanwhile, the pedestrians were wise enough to quicken their pace unless they volunteered to be potential victims of the magical conflict.

"Let go! We are refugees here!" the dark-skinned man struggled once more. "You have no right to pawn our heads to fight your battles!"

The commander remained where he was, joined by his comrades. "That was the agreement. You can stay here in return for mobilising anyone capable of fighting to help us against the mujinos. Leaving the country is always an option; it means fewer mouths to feed."

"Son of a bitch!" Xochitl continued to thrash about, his strength overpowering the women. His hands were dangerously close to reaching the face of the man before him.

Luckily Izel, with her robust arms, pulled Xochitl back to the ground. "Alright, we understand!" Izel declared. "We won't stir up any more trouble. Now can you please leave? Leave!"

The civil guards remained unmoved until the Tamoanchanese men had lost all their strength to fume. When that happened, the commander amidst them spoke. "You Tamoanchanese are the most selfish people I have ever met. We have heard of you. A group of arrogant individuals who claim the sun favors you, yet the evident truth is quite the opposite. We will not tire of emphasising that Kagatse is one of the few nations willing to accept you here. However, we prioritize our countrymen above all else. Do not disgrace yourselves, refugees! Our priority is for Kagatseans to seek refuge in the capital first. If Otnagochi becomes untenable, then your families will follow.”

Having said that, the civil guards turned around in unison, one by one boarding their engine carriages and driving away. The women helped the fallen men into the tent. Izel was not like the other women. She knew full well the steam still rising from her hands. And she did not feel the same sympathy as the others.

"Next time tell the women not to interfere," Izel overheard Xochitl's request, which sounded more like an order. "That includes you, Izel."

"Silence, pansy!" sneered Izel, disgust written all over his face. "I despise those Kagatsean soldiers. But they have a point." Izel distanced herself from Xochitl. "You're useless. You are all useless. Unworthy in the eyes of Citlalicoatl."

Izel lost the warmth of home so she went looking for warmth elsewhere. []